No one ever told Ramirez she would be charged for the time of a staff member assigned to watch her as she reviewed the documents. The county produced 19 boxes of records. She took eight hours going through them. That's less than 30 minutes a box, hardly dogging it. The next day, she repeated the exercise with another set of boxes.

She even provided her own scanner, so she wouldn't have to ask for copies, or pay for them.

So how did she take advantage of anyone?

That's a rhetorical question. Ramirez simply exercised her right as a citizen of Florida, with its strong government-in-the-sunshine laws.

Under the laws, Sarasota County also has the right to charge for copies and staff time, but it does not have to exercise it. In this case, it didn't. Nor in good conscience could the county bill Ramirez retroactively.

"It's like you go to buy a pair of shoes, and the price tag says $50, but then you get to the counter and they say, 'Those shoes aren't $50; they're $250,'" says Barbara Petersen of the First Amendment Foundation in Tallahassee. Petersen says she's refused to pay as little as $5 for records when the charge was not established beforehand.

Even so, Commissioner Joe Barbetta's motion to charge Ramirez retroactively failed by only one vote.

The upshot of the commission conversation is that in the name of consistency the county is ready to start nickel and diming everyone who requests to see or copy public records.

Nothing wrong with consistency. Those who regularly request access to public records know the system is anything but. Fees vary from department to department, city to city, county to county, depending on who's doing the asking, the mood of the government employee who's asked and the subject of the records request.

In that regard, political observers might see a subtext in the commissioner's angst over Ramirez's review. She's a potential commission candidate, who has criticized the board's implied intention to open development east of the interstate.

It's not hard to imagine the commissioners being more concerned with what Ramirez might unearth in her record search than with the time staff spent baby-sitting her while she did it.

Such "troublemakers" generally pay top dollar for access, yet they are the ones, along with a free press, who provide the most effective checks on government excess and corruption.

The county could have charged Ramirez more than $200 for her day at the administrative offices, which raises another issue.

In the future, what if someone who doesn't have much money wants to review or copy records? Will they simply be turned away at the door? It's hardly fair to set up that type of paywall for the public's access to its own records.

<p>Lourdes Ramirez spent almost two days looking through public records to get a better understanding of Sarasota County's 2050 plan. She did get a few insights.</p><p>And so did we, although our eye-openers had nothing to do with the county's blueprint for growth east of Interstate 75.</p><p>Instead, we got a reminder last week from the Sarasota County Commission about what a struggle it is to keep the "public" in public records.</p><p>Although they never mentioned Ramirez by name, one after another, the commissioners lamented that she had not been charged for looking at the 2050 documents.</p><p>Commission Chairwoman Carolyn Mason finally opined, "I think we've been taken advantage of."</p><p>No one ever told Ramirez she would be charged for the time of a staff member assigned to watch her as she reviewed the documents. The county produced 19 boxes of records. She took eight hours going through them. That's less than 30 minutes a box, hardly dogging it. The next day, she repeated the exercise with another set of boxes.</p><p>She even provided her own scanner, so she wouldn't have to ask for copies, or pay for them.</p><p>So how did she take advantage of anyone?</p><p>That's a rhetorical question. Ramirez simply exercised her right as a citizen of Florida, with its strong government-in-the-sunshine laws.</p><p>Under the laws, Sarasota County also has the right to charge for copies and staff time, but it does not have to exercise it. In this case, it didn't. Nor in good conscience could the county bill Ramirez retroactively.</p><p>"It's like you go to buy a pair of shoes, and the price tag says $50, but then you get to the counter and they say, 'Those shoes aren't $50; they're $250,'" says Barbara Petersen of the First Amendment Foundation in Tallahassee. Petersen says she's refused to pay as little as $5 for records when the charge was not established beforehand.</p><p>Even so, Commissioner Joe Barbetta's motion to charge Ramirez retroactively failed by only one vote.</p><p>The upshot of the commission conversation is that in the name of consistency the county is ready to start nickel and diming everyone who requests to see or copy public records.</p><p>Nothing wrong with consistency. Those who regularly request access to public records know the system is anything but. Fees vary from department to department, city to city, county to county, depending on who's doing the asking, the mood of the government employee who's asked and the subject of the records request.</p><p>In that regard, political observers might see a subtext in the commissioner's angst over Ramirez's review. She's a potential commission candidate, who has criticized the board's implied intention to open development east of the interstate.</p><p>It's not hard to imagine the commissioners being more concerned with what Ramirez might unearth in her record search than with the time staff spent baby-sitting her while she did it.</p><p>Such "troublemakers" generally pay top dollar for access, yet they are the ones, along with a free press, who provide the most effective checks on government excess and corruption.</p><p>The county could have charged Ramirez more than $200 for her day at the administrative offices, which raises another issue.</p><p>In the future, what if someone who doesn't have much money wants to review or copy records? Will they simply be turned away at the door? It's hardly fair to set up that type of paywall for the public's access to its own records.</p><p><i>Eric Ernst's column runs Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Contact him at eric.ernst@heraldtribune.com or (941) 486-3073.</i></p>